The Disney Files
by Monkey Typewriter
Summary: Classic Disney films, with a Dresden added for flavor. Will feature Harry and a few friends replacing classic Disney characters, and slightly reimagine the plot for each accordingly. Currently: The Little Mermaid begins, with our heroes Harry and Thomas out on the water, enjoying a 'relaxing' day at sea! At its core, this is me practicing romance-writing. Feedback appreciated!
1. The Little Mermaid I

The Disney Files

Chapter 1: The Little Mermaid

 **AN: Yeah, I'm firmly stuck on the Dresden train. There is no escape, and honestly, who would want to leave?**

 **In these fan fictions, which will undoubtedly host something of a romance bend to them, considering the source material, I will be picking and choosing characters to replace others with. I will not be plagiarizing Disney Movies, just with every single character replaced. For example, with this one, the only characters I've changed up are replacing Prince Eric with Thomas, and adding Harry to the mix, while editing the story some... As much as I love Harry and Susan/Harry and Murphy, or Thomas and Justine, these stories would be no fun without a little bit of variety, rather than Dresden people across space and time in the same story. And because, again, theft ain't my style, the plots will change as a result of these different characters.**

 **One more thing. I will be playing with some of Butcher's rules here. I will avoid it as best as I can, because honestly, his system of magic is the best I've ever come across in fiction.**

* * *

One: The Little Mermaid

"Isn't this great?" The prince's voice called from above. "The salty sea air, wind blowing in your face… A perfect day to be at sea!"

"Come on, Thomas," I called out, annoyed, "We need to be heading back to shore already."

He laughed from his place atop the crow's nest, before leaping off, hand snapping out to seize a fluttering rope mid-fall, which he rode down without a trace of difficulty. As he aimed his dazzling smile at me, the one that made single women swoon, single men weep, married men sigh in relief, and married women consider the merits of becoming a widow, I thought one thing.

I hate him.

That type of preternatural agility was only possible due to his parentage, of course, and the Demon, the Hunger that resided in his spirit. The Hunger was a weight that would forever drag at Thomas' conscience, so long as he held onto it, kept it chained to his humanity. In all honesty, I should have encouraged this free, happy use of his supernatural abilities.

And, if they came without the incredible good looks that drew women to him like flies to honey, and as a side-effect, away from me, I would never have an issue with it.

Yeah, I'm a jealous bastard, in both senses of the word. I can still get over myself though. I love Thomas. He's my brother, and I would die for him. That doesn't preclude wanting to sometimes kill him, though.

"What's the matter, Harry? Tired of seeing your Prince show how great he is at sailing?"

"More like tired of being out on the water for eight hours. And how, exactly, are you great at sailing?" I couldn't help the smirk. "Does pointing in a direction and telling your men 'Go that way' count?"

"Of course it does," he dismissed, unruffled. "Then again," he smiled innocently, "This does too." Turning his back to me, he began to look at the sky, judging the winds, or the clouds, or the position of the sun, or... something. And either this information informed his decision, and he tied fancy knots and pulled ropes into the perfect positions because of what he learned from them, or he was completely bullshitting me, and playing with knots to make a point because he knew I couldn't sail my way out of a bathtub.

"Whatever you say, My Lord," I mocked, sketching the shallowest bow I could manage. "Your Court Wizard advises that you return us to shore, however."

"What," he innocently asked, "is my chief advisor feeling... Seasick?"

"You could say that," I grumbled, looking at the sea around me. "Something doesn't feel right. It's not overt, I just feel like there's… I feel something wrong, deep down in my gut."

"Hm. Well, call me crazy," Thomas joked, "but I don't want to end this beautiful day prematurely because you have indigestion. Come on, King Triton's having a day off," he claimed, gesturing at the clear skies above and unusually gentle ocean below. "We should take an easy day when it comes to us, not watch it until things go wrong."

"Watching until things go wrong is my whole job description, Your Grace, along with pulling both of our hides out of the fire when things go up in flames."

"After setting the flames, of course," My brother said diplomatically, nodding along to his own words as if they were sage advice before blinding me with another smile.

I snorted, and walked off to stand by the wheelman. Terrible habit of trying to seize the last word, my brother. "Only when your sword arm isn't enough to do the trick, Your Grace," I called over my shoulder.

Well, it runs in the family, I guess.

Regardless of who got what last word, and who was being more mature, (me, obviously,) there was only so much I could take of His Royal Pain in My Ass at a time, and a whole day, trapped on a ship with him, a set of sailors both leery of anyone who claimed to do magic and far past tired of my own charming personality, and my faithful woolly mammoth, Mouse, who was much more of a listener than a talker, I had had enough. I love my brother, but I didn't love his habit of dismissing my wariness. After all, it was only paranoia if the invisible demon trying to eat your face wasn't real, and so far I had a painful habit of being right more often than not.

Sighing, I went to stand at the aft end of the ship, staring back out at the waves, carved driftwood staff set in the crook of my arm.

So when the deep blue ocean began to dye itself black, and the light faded from the sky as storm clouds appeared from absolutely nowhere, I had the best seat in the house.

Before I could join in the panic of voices and thudding boots as the crew rushed about to prepare for the sudden storm, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise, and smelled a familiar scent. Before I knew what I was doing, my staff was in the air, expelling energy in a thin stream, and my finger was pointed at the water. Half on instinct, and half as my brain caught up to my body, I screamed out a defiant "Fulminos!"

With a rolling crack of thunder, and a blinding flash of light as the electricity roared out of my hand, the water nearby exploded into an angry, frothing mass of boiling brine and steam.

I collapsed. I had moved lightning like that before. Usually though, I was the one to call it down from a cloud, meaning I had time to prepare for it, rather than let it roar through my body and try to muscle it away from anything too important with the magic that sat inside of me. To fight off a bolt of lightning without any time to prepare was no simple matter. Had I not recognized that feeling of dread, the smell of ozone, and felt the hair stand up in my neck... Well, either the bolt would have struck the boat and set it on fire, or it would have struck me unawares, and I would either be dead, or otherwise much worse off than I currently was.

"Get us to shore!" Thomas shouted, in his most commanding voice. If I wasn't in immense pain by way of electrocution, I would have felt touched by the fact that his voice was colored with concern. As it was, I only felt like I wanted to pass out.

Instead, I struggled to my feet, stomach roiling and muscles twitching without my input.

"Harry, sit back down!" Thomas commanded. Part of me wanted to, but as the rain started sheeting down over us, I shook myself, and turned to him.

"Let me help!" Is what I wanted to say, standing my ground firmly as I told my brother and prince that I was not going to sit on the sidelines.

"Le-augh!" Is what came out, as the floor buckled beneath me, as I stumbled backwards and over a railing, and as I hit the ocean hard.

Uncooperative as my muscles were, violent as the waves instantly became, and weighed down as I was by my boots and ever-present duster, swimming was near impossible.

Luckily for me, and terribly for my brother and his sailors, lightning struck the mast, and as it cracked and splintered, a fairly large, jagged piece of wood landed next to me, only a little bit on fire, and a rogue wave took care of that small problem for me. Desperate, I grabbed at the makeshift flotation device, and tried not to choke on the next wave as it drove me below, and nearly made me knock myself senseless on the wooden mast below me.

After spitting out some of the angry water, and sloppily wiping my eyes clear of the stuff, I raised my staff, still clutched firmly in my right, in defiance of the next wave.

"Forzare!" I screamed in a higher voice than I'd like to admit to. At my command, a lance of angry, red energy split the wave before it caught me and drove me under.

Even so, that unfocused, half-cocked blast of energy took a lot out of me. Trying to push a spell out over running water was hard enough, but doing it half submerged in a frothing ocean, as rain began to sheet down from overhead? Well, it spoke to the amount of fear and power I pushed into that spell, to have come out half as well as it did.

So, sagging against my makeshift raft like I was, left entirely drained from that spell... I think it was understandable that I wasn't prepared to deal with the next wall of water to come crashing down on me.

And that I fell almost entirely unconscious when it slammed me down under the waves.

* * *

All I really remember after that panic between consciousness, and what was meant to be my slow, sinking, terrifying demise is replaced by a pair of soft, delicate hands that both felt like velvet on my skin, and sent what felt like an electric shock running through my whole body for an instant, though my eyes were too heavy to open, bracing under me, pulling me towards the next life...

Then a beautiful song, one I struggled to convince myself truly was an angel, in spite of how heavenly it sounded. It was hard to believe I'd gotten the better end of two options, but I threw myself into that belief with gusto.

And then Mouse. Barking as loudly as he did when trying to scare off some spooky monster of one sort or another, though this time it was to wake me up, and draw attention to my place on the beach where I lay, my hand closed loosely around the remaining half of my splintered staff, and shifting uncomfortably due to soaked sand in places it should not be.

With a grumble, I flopped out a hand, lightly bopping Mouse on the nose as he snuffled over every inch of me in some sort of doggy investigation. He took this boppage with great excitement, and began to lick my face in what I can only assume to be hunger and his first, long-plotted attempts at eating me whole.

"Back, foul beast," I murmured, still dazed.

There was no mercy in the smile that seemed to overtake the mutt's muzzle. The licking resumed with gusto, and I found myself spluttering as my face traded its layer of sea salt and brine in for mutt spit and dogasaurus breath.

"Harry!" Thomas called out as a couple of his men escorted me to where he sat on the throne. Before I knew what was happening, Thomas was out of the seat and rushing down the steps to wrap me in a bone-crushing hug.

I returned the embrace as best as I could. Ever since Thomas had found me and told me of our shared blood, he had been the only family I'd known since my father died. And after he'd found me, stain of a bastard against his father's honor or not, he had begged me to help him to properly rule, and to help him defend his kingdom, after his father and elder sister had killed each other in a power struggle. As it was, what with him being all of twenty-five, and me at twenty, he didn't feel fully comfortable in his throne. To the amusement of the royalty of surrounding countries, he had yet to officially crown himself as King. They liked to claim that it was because he was a child, afraid of the responsibility, and much preferring his whores and wine to actual work.

As his brother, I knew that it was his Hunger, the ever-present monkey on his back that liked to meddle in every aspect of his life. The Hunger mainly pushed him in sexual ways, to get intimate with women, and to take bites of their soul, to turn the energy keeping them alive into supernatural mojo filling him with strength, and never doing anything for his demon but whetting its appetite. But it craved other things. Like any social animal, (and vampires, like humans, were extremely social animals,) it strove for dominance, and that sort of drive in the hands of a ruler could lead to terrible, international-disaster-level, war-starting incidents.

"Thomas," I said quietly, pulling away from him, "something started that storm. You know that, right?"

Solemnly he nodded. "I figured as much." A smile sparked to life on his face. "Maybe next time, if there's a little warning from my Court Wizard, it might help to avoid any unpleasant, stormy nights."

I huffed out a small laugh, before rolling my eyes. "One can only hope."

* * *

 **Just to be clear, this ain't over.**

 **Jeez, I should probably learn to focus on one story at a time, has h? Ah well, it probably won't be any time soon.**

 **Anywhoozits, Good Luck, and Happy FanFic-ing!**

 **Monkey Typewriter**

 **Edit 1: Harry's staff has now been busted, in early Dresden tradition, right before when he'll really need it.**


	2. The Little Mermaid II

Chapter 2: The Little Mermaid

My mind was abuzz with a satisfying mix of panic, pride, joy, and the sort of excitement I'd thought I'd seen the last of when I left childhood behind. I'd actually seen a human, touched a human, met a human!

"Met is a strong word, Ariel," Sebastian grumped at me, and I realized that last part had been aloud. "He was unconscious, girl."

"Only for most of the time!" I defended. He'd stirred when I had sang, leaning over him, closer than I'd been to anyone before. Close enough to...

I shook my head, and dragged the fingers that had been playing across my lips at the thought down, swimming with a more power than was necessary, leaving Sebastian behind for just a moment as he clumsily followed. It gave the red in my cheeks a chance to fade before he noticed it. The human had been handsome, even if he had gone scarily intense, when he tossed that lightning bolt aside like it was nothing. Even if he hadn't been able to hold a candle to the prince, who stood in the face of the storm with a self-assured determination, and effortlessly commanded the respect and attention of his men through the howling winds and pounding rains.

"I don't get it, Sebastian," I said, slowing so that he could catch back up, mind flickering back to the human I'd saved. "How did he do that? The stackenheimer he had with him didn't look magical, so how did he control the lightning?"

"Do you mean his stick?" Flounder piped up from beside me, keeping pace without wheezing like Sebastian was. "It might be magic, it got all glowy right before he caught the lightning."

"Is it called a stick?" I wondered aloud. "I was sure that Scuttle called it a stackenheimer…"

"What it is called does not matter!" Sebastian huffed, paddling himself in front of Flounder and me, and forcing us to stop short. "And you should not be learning anything from that idiot of a bird! This should never have happened! Oh, if he hears that you saved that human, he'll… He'll-!"

"Well then, I guess it's a good thing that he won't hear it, right?" Sebastian looked unimpressed at my words, and something in my stomach dropped into my tailfin. "Sebastian, you can't tell him! If Daddy finds out-"

"I won't, I won't tell him, child," he sighed, claws rubbing at the sides of his head. "If the king knew, he would have himself a lovely crab bisque before anything else, and then deal with your disobedience." Looking up at me desperately, Sebastian's claws came together as he slowly floated to the sand below, pleading, "but we can't hide this forever. If you don't stop with your visits to the surface, or your collections, the King will have both our hides!"

My lips closed together in a thin line. "Sebastian, I can't just stop-"

A call from the castle interrupted, and when had we gotten so close to home? "Ariel!" My father shouted, obviously searching for me like the old worrywart he was. Sebastian let out a sound that could generously be called an 'eep,' and Flounder had frozen, drifting down into the sand before he let a deep breath of relief out, and swam his way back up to us.

"Not another word of this." Sebastian looked up at me meaningfully, his eyes hard, waiting for my word on the matter.

"We'll talk about it," I promised instead, "Later. After I make sure Daddy doesn't tear down the city looking for me."

* * *

"You're singing again," my sister sighed, rolling her eyes as if she could hardly believe it.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I laughed, running my hands through my ruby red locks, collecting the slowly bouncing, drifting hair into a single mass to begin brushing it. "It's a beautiful day," I said as I continued trying to tame my mane of softly flowing curls. The only things I really had left of my mother, it seemed sometimes, were the looks I'd inherited. People always seemed to make a big deal about my hair, especially my sisters, but I had been old enough when she passed to remember her face, and it was so very close to the one that stared back at me from the polished sea-glass set in a giant clamshell.

It made mirrors more than a little bittersweet, but if I wanted to look my best for… for tonight, I was going to use every tool at my disposal, even if it caused a sad smile to ghost across my lips when I stared at my face, her face. The expression was soon replaced with an ugly grimace, though, when the large-toothed coral comb caught a particularly nasty tangle.

Alana snorted at my attempts, before swimming up behind me. Taking the comb from my hand, she shook her head, her ocean blue eyes meeting my seafoam green in the mirror. A wry smirk tugged at her face, and she began to work through the knot with enthusiasm, if not care.

"Watch it, Alana!" I complained at the rough treatment, my hands doing their best to keep my scalp from tearing off with the rest of my hair. "I thought you came over to help me?"

"Why would you think that?" She asked. Leaning down so her heart-shaped face rested on my shoulder, beside my own face, black hair streaming out behind her and brushing against my red locks. "I just like to see you squirm up close and personal."

"Just because you're older doesn't mean you get to tug my hair. We're not guppies anymore, Alana."

"Maybe," she smiled nostalgically, before a businesslike mien came to her face. Her lips flattened into a line, and her left eyebrow quirked up in an unimpressed sort of bend. "So who's the lucky guy?"

I jolted in place, tail kicking before I knew it, and in half a second my head hit the ceiling of the little room we shared even now, more out of favoring the other's company than a lack of space in the palace. Nursing my head wound, I looked down at her, the same look on her face, but a light of laughter dancing in her eyes.

"I… uhhhh… don't know what you're talking about?" I ventured.

"Try again," Alana sighed, patting the little rock I had just sat in, now a seat for two. "I need details, so if he hurts your feelings I can hunt him down and make him rue the day."

I floated down beside her, hands fiddling with each other in a nervous habit I couldn't seem to break. "But if I tell you, you might…" I stopped, not wanting to say it. I didn't like to think it, because it wasn't really fair to the rest of my sisters, who were so much older than me, but I was closer to Alana than any of my other sisters. So it hurt to even think that she might take this, something that was so important, and ruin it for me.

"I might what?" She asked, bringing me back to reality. "Tell father? He'd be thrilled to see you put up with a nice young merman, you know." She stopped her teasing to look at me. Whatever she saw must have worried her, because she stopped the teasing, before continuing with a deep breath. "But I wouldn't. I wouldn't betray your trust like that. You never told anyone when I snuck out to chase all the boys when I was thirteen, remember?"

"Except that time Attina bribed me with candy," I admitted. I wasn't exactly helping my case, but I hated not being truthful with Alana. The rest of my sisters treated me like a kid. Alana treated me like an equal. Maybe it had to do with how she was only two years older than me, but she made me feel like my opinions and my feelings mattered, like I wasn't just her troublesome little sister.

"Right," Alana agreed, "except that time Attina cheated and used your greatest weakness against you."

I laughed a little at that, relaxing into my sister's side, as she gave me a one-armed hug. "Well…" I began before I'd consciously decided to share, "he's…"

"So it is a boy." She said with a self-satisfied smile. "Aquata owes me a spa-day, she thought you just managed to get out of rehearsal for the week."

"Aquata needs to stop making bets on my personal life," I grumbled. If she was going to do it, you'd think the least she would do is spend more time with me, to figure out which bets were worth making. It took another few seconds before the rest of that sentence registered. "Rehearsal! Oh, I knew I forgot something today!"

"Relax, somebody covered for you," she grinned. "Somehow, Sebastian got it into his head that you thought you could go over things in private with him later today," she continued as she drifted up from her seat behind me, turning me to face the mirror again, and taking up her preferred instrument of torture… the comb. "It seems that some beautiful, fabulous mermaid must have convinced him it was better to make sure you worked on your solo where prying ears can't hear it before it's ready."

"Well, if you see this beautiful, fabulous mermaid, tell her thanks for me. With how pretty you make her sound, I'm sure you'll know her when you see her."

"Ha, ha, Ariel," Alana rolled her eyes, bumping me none too gently on the head with the comb, hitting the clam-shell I seemed to be growing already from my eager meeting with the ceiling. I winced, as she sucked in some water. "Now, about this boy," she said, as she wiggled her eyebrows. "I need all the details."

"Well," I began, trying to call to mind the features of the prince, tall and proud as he guided his men through the storm. Every time I tried though, his visage was washed away by that image of the man standing taller, screaming at the skies and forcing them to heed his call, throwing aside a raging force of nature as if it were a mild current from the shore. The rugged chin and mild stubble, the hair that whipped about in the wild squall, the scowl he levelled at the heavens as they came crashing down on top of him.

I shook my head. "Well," I repeated, "there's sort of… two?" Oh no, that sounded so bad out loud, and what happened to the surety the other day, when the prince was the only one that mattered? He had been so near, so strong, so intoxicating! Am I really so shallow, to just trade out one infatuation for another? I feel like I'm a little kid, just playing at her first real crush… Panicked, I looked to Alana, in time to see her surprise give way to a devilish smirk. "Oh, is my little sister a heartbreaker already?" She crooned, working her comb through my hair again, far less painful now that she'd broken its will to resist. "Tell me all about them, don't spare a single detail!"

"Well… One of them's really tall, and has… has this sense of presence to him, you know? Like if he were to-" I paused, remembering that while yes, humans walked places, the sort of man Alana was expecting me to describe most certainly did not. "If he were to swim into a room, you'd notice it. You'd feel it, like a cold current sweeping into the room. He's got these sharp features, and eyes that sort of… burn."

"Burn?" Alana asked, eyebrows drawn together as she worked through another knot in my hair, causing me to wince.

"They… well, they… do you know how the crystals that light the city in the night flicker sometimes, if the water hits them just right?" At her nod I smiled. "It was just like that, but… hotter. More intense."

"Sounds like Ariel might have a favorite," Alana teased. I scowled at her image in the mirror.

"If I do, it was the other one," I said dismissively, remembering the thrill that had run through me when I saw him, nearly glowing with power and surety in the night, even as his face kept sliding away from my grip. "He was… breathtaking, Alana. I could have stared at him for hours, he just…" I swallowed the next words that wanted to spill out of my mouth to avoid being teased until my dying day.

"Well," Alana said, with a smile, "sounds like you need a little bit more time to decide who you want to pursue a relationship with." An indulgent smile came to her lips. "And whichever one you don't want sounds like they may be just my type. Handsome and striking, or passionate and commanding… a girl could do worse, either way. I'll let you go see them, then," Alana's smile widened as my eyes did. "And yes, Ariel, it was that obvious. I hope you have a good night, on your little date!"

As she swam out of the room, I scowled. "It's not like that!" I called, unhappy with the truth. After all, if you're going out to watch a boy, rather than meet him, it can't exactly be called a date.

Spying might be a better word for it, sadly...

* * *

 **AN: This is an iffy chapter for me, because I'm not sure how well I characterize women. I don't know, I feel weird about how I do it, let me know if I did a crappy job, or if I did well. I'm a little afraid that I'm going to end up making her into a damsel, especially since Ariel is pretty much the opposite of one, and if there's one thing I don't like it's violating what a character is. I really do like Alana so far though, and I'm hopeful I did well with Ariel and her scene together. Honestly, Alana absolutely hijacked the chapter, which was meant to move the plot along a fair bit more than it has, but you'll find no complaints from me. She's fun as Hell to write.**

 **Another issue: Sebastian. I wrote his way of talking as well as I could, without writing his dialogue how it sounds. I can't find a graceful way to do it, but if you guys would rather me write him speaking in an accent instead of just writing the actual words and letting your brains fill in the blanks as far as sound and pronunciation, let me know!**

 **Also, I've written myself into something of a corner here, in not including the statue, and gotten further into it by writing these scenes as coming up at different times to those in the movies, so it will be pretty hard, getting Ariel to Ursula in desperation. Stay tuned to find out how I pull it off, or to watch how I crash and burn while trying!**


End file.
